


Emptying the Backpack

by Bright_Suns, fencecollapsed



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Collaboration, F/M, Guns, Half Infected Paul Matthews, Hypnotism, Infected Paul Matthews, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:47:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Suns/pseuds/Bright_Suns, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencecollapsed/pseuds/fencecollapsed
Summary: On the way to the Clivesdale hospital, as Paul's infection slowly progresses, he makes a last-ditch effort to keep Emma safe.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heya! little fic time! this is a collab, me (fencecollapsed) having written this first chapter and my pal Bright_Suns having written the next. enjoy!

As Paul sat in the back of the rescue helicopter beside Emma, watching her watch through the opening as they passed over the waters of Michigan down below, he could  _ feel _ himself changing. He’d been infected. Well before PEIP had arrived on the scene, before he’d made his way back to Emma, he’d found himself losing an internal battle under the onslaught of infectious spores invading his system. He’d managed to fight off the Hive’s grip on his mind long enough to make it back to the shore, to make sure Emma would be found and safe, but when the army arrived they’d noticed nothing wrong with him. How could they? He’d healed to the point of no visible injury, no blue leaking from his body. He wasn’t singing, he wasn’t even speaking. He’d tried to protest, to ensure he was left behind, but the infection inside him kept him silent. And the further from Hatchetfield they moved, the more Paul could feel it seeping into his veins, tightening its grip on his mind. He wasn’t going to last much longer, and if he didn’t do something, if he couldn’t separate himself from her, neither would Emma.

He looked at her, watching quietly as they passed over the massive lake separating the island from Clivesdale. Her hand rested on her bandaged leg. Her eyes were tired. But she was alive, and she deserved to stay that way. Paul didn’t want to let himself hurt her, but he knew he wouldn’t have a choice. Though maybe if she didn’t know him, if he could erase everything about him from her mind, he could protect her from the worst of it. He could give her a chance. He reached out a slightly shaking hand and touched her arm.

“Emma,” 

She turned towards him. “Hm?”

“I just… want to look at you. For a minute.”

She gave him a tired smile, brows quirked with amusement. “Sure, man.” 

Paul brought his fingers slowly down Emma’s arm and took her hand, gently lacing their fingers together. She looked down, then back up at him, a little puzzled, but her small smile remained and she didn’t pull away. Paul brought his other hand up to cup her cheek, holding her in place so their eyes stayed locked on each other. He watched Emma’s eyes widen in shock as his own eyes began to glow. Slowly, the bright cyan of his irises expanded, consuming his eyes, stretched by a widening ring of white dotting the center, that in turn carried its own rings of dark blue and silver. The colorful rings pulsed and danced around each other to a silent rhythm, and before Emma could process what it meant she was already transfixed.

“...Paul?” She gasped.

“Shh, Emma.” Paul brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Just look at me. Just focus on my eyes, follow the colors and relax. It’s okay. You’ll be safe.”

Paul wasn’t sure how he knew he could do this, but he did. It was some kind of power in him now, from the infection, he guessed. As long as he could use it to protect Emma, he was almost grateful for it. He watched her gradually get lost in the thrall of his gaze, her eyelids fluttering, furrowed brows slowly relaxing. He stole a brief glance to the front of the helicopter, grateful that in the back no one could hear them. He drew his thumb softly over the back of Emma’s hand and hummed. It would work better if he sang, but he really,  _ really _ didn’t want to do that. Humming worked fine, he could see Emma falling deeper into trance.

“The longer you focus on my eyes, the more relaxed you become,” he murmured, noticing how his voice carried itself on a slight melody. “You can let yourself go, Emma, it’s okay to relax here. You can let my voice carry you deeper. You feel safe. You feel calm and secure enough to sleep.”

“Mm,” Emma hummed, blinking heavily, sleepily.

“It’s been a very long day, you’re very tired. You’re going to sleep soon, Emma. But before you do, you need to let go of some things for me. Your mind is a backpack and you need to get rid of some weight. It’s too heavy to carry anymore.”

Paul’s voice started to tremble, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. As much as he didn’t want to do this, he had to. He had to keep her safe no matter how much it hurt. He took a deep breath.

“I want you to open up that backpack, Emma. And I want… I want you to empty it of every memory you have of me.” He had to fight to keep his voice steady, to keep it from breaking. “Everything. Find what my face looks like, and get rid of it. Get rid of the sound of my voice. You can feel it all in your hands, it’s too heavy. You can’t carry any of it anymore, it’ll only weigh you down. I want you to rid yourself of the burden of knowing me.”

He watched the recognition steadily drain from Emma’s heavy, tired eyes as her subconscious obeyed, locking away her memories. She was looking at someone she vaguely recognized now, someone she might have met a long time ago, or in a dream. Paul took another deep breath.

“The heaviest thing in that backpack is my name. Take that out, get rid of it. I want  _ Paul Matthews  _ to mean absolutely nothing to you. Anything you may associate with  _ Paul Matthews _ is gone now. When you hear that name you will feel nothing. You will think of nothing. It means nothing to you. There is nothing left of me in your mind.”

“Nothing,” Emma mumbled, and the pain in Paul’s chest was sharp.

“Nothing.” He nodded. “Now you’ve emptied out that backpack, I want you to zip it up, and let yourself sleep. You can sleep freely and deeply now, with none of that burden weighing you down anymore. Once you wake up, everything you removed will be gone forever. You won’t even remember that you ever had any of it. Do you understand?” 

Emma nodded loosely.

“Good. Sleep now.” 

Paul let Emma slump sideways, resting her head on his shoulder as she fell into sleep. He glanced out the side of the helicopter down to the land below. They would land in Clivesdale and be separated before she woke up, and by the time she woke up she wouldn’t remember him at all. He squeezed her hand one last time, and allowed himself to press a soft kiss to the side of her head, feeling the infection breaking him down faster. 

“Sleep now.”


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks had gone by since the helicopter ride to the hospital, and throughout those two weeks, Emma had had many dreams. Some were pleasant, others…not so much. But the one constant they all had was that Emma always saw or spoke to a dark haired man with striking blue eyes, usually wearing a brown suit.

Sometimes she even had dreams where he was in the backseat of the helicopter with her, talking to her, holding her hand, kissing the top of her head. But when she woke up, she always remembered that no one else had been in the back with her. She was the only survivor from Hatchetfield, and that was constantly drilled into her head. Whenever she asked, to see if maybe Tom or Tim or even _Peanuts_ had made it out safely, Colonel Schaffer always shut her down. “There were no survivors, Kelly. Everyone who was in Hatchetfield at the time of the meteor is dead.” She would say. Emma always felt a little disheartened to hear that, but at least she had no reasons left to stay in Hatchetfield now. That was the one bright side, she constantly told herself.

After two weeks, Emma’s leg had healed enough for her to be able to walk again. It was still weak, and still needed a bandage. But at least now she could be discharged. Now she could try and start a new life and put the mess that was Hatchetfield behind her. But when Ben Bridges entered the lobby, Emma felt a mass of memories coming back to her. She’d seen his face somewhere before, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. And then she realized: he was the man from her dreams.

“So, you’re Ben Bridges huh?” She asked, slowly walking over to him. Although he did not speak up, Ben gave her a small nod, and Emma gave a smile in return. At least she’d be getting out of Clivesdale soon. “I’m Em-” She trailed off before she could finish, just barely catching herself in time. “Kelly. Kelly Collins.” As she held out her hand for him to shake, Emma took a closer look at him. His hair was nice; neatly combed. His suit was nice too, even though it was just a plain brown. But what really caught her attention were his eyes: she hadn’t noticed it before, but his eyes were glowing a bright blue. Looking down at his lips, she noticed his grin was stretched wide over his face.

“ _Emma, I’m sorry. You lost_.” He began to sing, gripping onto her hand. Although unsure of how the hell he knew her name, Emma decided not to dwell on it and instead brought her good leg up, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as she could. This had the effect Emma was hoping for, as Ben released his grip on her hand. Although it wouldn’t buy her much time, it was enough that she could get further away from him. But before she could reach the exit, the nurse who had been taking care of her stepped in front of it, a wide smile on her face.

Emma’s heart began to pound in her chest as she looked around for something that could help. Maybe she could use her backpack as a weapon? It wasn’t that heavy, but it was something. She’d just have to make sure that nothing fell out of it. But as she went to hold it closed so she could swing it, she noticed something in it that she hadn’t before: had Schaffer slipped her a gun when she wasn’t looking? With no time to wonder about how it got there, Emma took it out, cocked it, and fired at the nurse.

As blue blood stained her clothes, she felt a pair of strong arms around her. “ _It’s inevitable for us._ ” She heard Ben sing. Kicking him as hard as she could with her good leg, Emma felt his hold on her loosen. And that was the opening she needed to whirl around and shoot Ben Bridges in the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I hope you all enjoyed it!


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